Part Two: Tony in Wonderland

"C'mon, Ziva," Tony muttered as he opened the door of his car in front of Ziva's apartment. Ziva was resting her head against the seatbelt with her eyes closed. Tony pondered as to how he would get her out of the car.

"Okay, Ziva," He said to himself as he studied the position Ziva was sleeping in. "Umm … okay." He lent over Ziva's body, reaching for the seatbelt release. Unfortunately, he lost his balance, slipped and ended up lying across Ziva's lap.

"Aargh," he squeaked as he realised what position he was in. His thigh was resting between her legs and his side was pressed up against her chest. "Oh, boy, am I ever glad Ziva is sleeping …" he stated nervously and silently thanked the Heavens.

Suddenly, Ziva mumbled something incomprehensible and shifted in her sleep. Tony yelped quietly as her legs squeezed his thigh. "You are so doing this on purpose," he whispered as he tried to free himself from Ziva's grip.

"Okay, Anthony, think," Tony said to himself from his highly awkward position. "It's not like you have been in this position before …"

"Yeah, but not with a Mossad Officer who could probably kill you a gazillion ways," he interrupted himself with a sigh. He groaned, wishing he'd never gotten up that morning.

"Right," Tony said determinately as he took a deep breathe. "She's asleep, what could she possibly do to you?"

"Oh, I don't know," he said sarcastically to himself. "Shoot me in the head? Castrate me?" He sighed again.

"Oh, Zee-vah," Tony muttered in a sing-song voice, hoping to get a slight response out of her which, in turn, would make her shift. Ziva stayed still, her thighs still encasing his.

"Damnit, Ziva," Tony grumbled frustratingly. On any other day, Tony might have been jumping for joy at being in this position, but as it was, Ziva was sick. She wasn't doing it willingly and that made it awkward for him, almost like he was taking advantage of the situation even when he knew that it wasn't true at all. He sighed.

"Might as well just go for it," he said confidently. "Just pull your leg out and it will all be dandy. Okay, on the count of three … one … two … three …" Tony yanked his leg from Ziva's grasp, but twisted himself in an oddly manner so that he found himself staring down Ziva's open shirt.

Tony yelped, but couldn't help appreciate the sight. He was after all, a man with needs. "Bad, DiNozzo," he berated himself after a moment and slapped himself on the back of the head. "Bad, bad, DiNozzo!"

Turning away from Ziva's cleavage, Tony hurriedly pressed the seatbelt release button and ungracefully managed to get out of Ziva's lap and out of the car.

Ziva groaned as the seatbelt hit her in the face and Tony winced and muttered an apology. "Sorry 'bout that, Ziva. Okay, let's get you inside."

Tony slipped one hand under Ziva's shoulders and the other under her legs. Gently, he lifted Ziva from the car and slammed the car door with his hip. Tony hoisted Ziva so that she was in a comfortable position, and Ziva murmured as she snuggled into his shoulder. He looked down and smiled at Ziva who was resting on his shoulder.

'Better not mention this to her,' he mused to himself as he walked in the door. 'She'd kill me before I could say … Wonderland.'

"Umm …" Tony said frustratingly as he reached Ziva's door. He had her key in his pocket, but there was no way he would be able to open the door without putting Ziva on the ground. "Ah, damn."

He made a face and tried to see if he could manoeuvre himself so that he could open the door and hang onto Ziva. Tony reached for the key in his pocket, but fumbled it and the key fell to the ground. He cursed silently as he tried to bend down and pick up the keys, and hold Ziva. He bent his knees, and reached down, but the extra weight sent him crashing down the ground.

"Oomph," he growled as he hit the ground hard. He looked at Ziva, who didn't even acknowledge the fall. "That would be right," he grumbled as he rubbed his behind. "She just goes on like nothing happens and I get a bruised butt. Great, just great. This is the last time I do anything nice for you."

Suddenly, the door next to Ziva's apartment flew open and an old lady wearing a hairnet and brandishing a rolling pin stepped into the hallway.

"What on earth is happening?" she screeched, waving the rolling pin around. Tony groaned inwardly and cursed Gibbs five times over.

"Everything is fine, ma'am," Tony said, flashing the woman one of his charming smiles. "Ziva is sick. I'm just bringing her home, per the boss' orders."

The lady looked at him warily. "How do I know that?" she asked suspiciously. "How do I know that you're not trying to kidnap poor Ziva dear. I think I should call the police." She made a start to re-enter her apartment.

"No, wait," Tony called desperately. "I have ID … but it's in my car," he finished dejectedly. "Please, my name is Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo of NCIS. I work with Ziva, honestly I do." Tony gave the lady his most honest look.

The woman looked thoughtful. "Hmmm, so you're dear Ziva's Tony …" Tony choked on his saliva at this comment, he couldn't believe his ears.

"Yes, now that you mention it, you do look like the photo Ziva showed me," she mused. Tony kept his face mostly passive and thought, 'Ziva you showed a picture of me?' "Okay, fine, I trust you," she finally said.

"That's great, ma'am … Mrs …"

"Mrs Simmonds, Bonnie Simmonds," she replied amicably. "Now why on earth are you on the floor?"

"I dropped Ziva's key," Tony muttered sheepishly. "And I was trying to pick them up."

Mrs Simmonds made a tsk tsk noise, and bent over slowly to retrieve the key. Tony staggered to his feet, holding onto Ziva as Mrs Simmonds put the key in the lock and opened the door for him.

"Thank you so much," Tony breathed as Mrs Simmonds held the door open for him. He manoeuvred Ziva through the door before turning to Mrs Simmonds.

"If there is anything I can do," she offered, looking at Ziva with sympathy. "Let me know. I am right next door."

"Will do, Mrs Simmonds," Tony replied gratefully nodding, still holding a sleeping Ziva.

"It's Bonnie, dear," Mrs Simmonds smiled gently. "Maybe I will see you more often now?" She winked at him before exiting the apartment and shutting the door softly. Tony stood staring at the door in surprise, then gave a slight grin and shrugged.

"Interesting neighbour you have there, Ziva," Tony commented as he looked around the living room. Then he looked down at Ziva and said, "Okay, so where's your bedroom?"

Ziva stirred, opened her eyes slowly and mumbled, "Tea party?"

"Ah, nope, that's not it," Tony replied cheerfully. "Bedroom, Ziva, bedroom," he stated in a cheerful voice, hoping to attract Ziva's attention.

"F-follow the Yellow Brick Road," Ziva replied, barely coherently.

Tony grimaced and rolled his eyes. "Curse whoever let you watch Alice in Wonderland and The Wizard of Oz as a child," he muttered. "Who would have thought you'd be such … such … such a … happy feverish person," he finished lamely.

"Okay," Tony said wearily as he headed in the direction of the first closed door he saw. His arms were getting tried from carrying around Ziva's weight. "Boy, I think you should lay off the chocolate there, sweetcheeks."

He awkwardly bent over and fumbled as he grasped the doorhandle weakly. Tony twisted it, trying to keep a hold of Ziva at the same time. The door groaned as it opened, and Tony poked his head into the room. Bathroom.

"Nice bathroom, Ziva," Tony commented lightly as he took in the large bathtub and shower, "didn't take you for a rose-tile kinda girl." Tony didn't bother to close the door as he looked around for the next room.

"This one the right one?" Tony asked Ziva as he rested his back against another closed door. Ziva shifted in his arms, her elbow digging into his shoulder. "Ouch," he yelped, glaring at Ziva. "I give up my time to bring you home and this is how you repay me?" Ziva said nothing and Tony sighed and shook his head. "Why do I even bother?"

Tony, again, awkwardly opened the door and found himself staring into study of sorts. A computer was sitting on a desk in the corner, but there was also a treadmill sitting off to the side. And a locked cabinet hanging on a wall, that reminded Tony strangely enough of a gun cabinet. 'Probably is,' he mused to himself.

"Interesting," Tony muttered as he reversed out of the doorway. "You have odd taste, sweetcheeks."

He spotted another door about three metres to his left. "If this ain't the right one, then I'll drop you on the floor and why do you insist on shutting all your doors?" he moaned, stepping over to the new door. "Third time lucky."

As before, Tony had trouble holding Ziva and opening the door at the same time, but once he did, he found himself looking at a neat and precise bedroom. "Thank, God," he muttered. "Finally …"

Tony stepped inside the room and placed Ziva gently on the neatly made bed. "Ahhh," he sighed, once the extra weight had been relieved from his arms. "Much better, wouldn't you say, Ziva?"

Ziva cracked opened her eyes and asked, "You are the W-white Rabbit, yes?"

"Yes, Ziva," Tony sighed, looking at his sweating partner lying awkwardly on her bed. "I am the White Rabbit; follow me through the … rabbit hole?" It had been years since he'd last watched Alice in Wonderland.

Ziva looked at him contently and murmured, "Good …" before closing her eyes again and curling herself into the foetal position.

Tony cracked a smile as he noticed how … sweet and cute his partner looked curled up. 'Ziva would have you for breakfast if she heard you think that,' he said to himself.

Ziva moaned again and the perspiration drops on her head were starting to mat her hair around her face. "Ummm … okay …" Tony tried to think back to compulsory first aid training he had had. Unfortunately, all the times that he had done it; a rather attractive nurse had been running the classes, making it near impossible to concentrate on what was being said.

"Right, a wet cloth," he finally summarised after a moment's thought. "I know where you're bathroom is, Ziva, so if you'll be okay by yourself, I'll go get a wash cloth." Ziva didn't reply.

"I'll take that as an okay, Tony, thanks, Tony," he decided hastily, knowing that the sooner he got the cloth, the better. "I'll be right back, okay? You'll feel better, I promise." Tony shot Ziva another look before exiting the bedroom and retracing his steps to the bathroom.

"Okay, wash cloth…wash cloth," he muttered to himself as he stepped through the doorway of the bathroom. "Ummm … there it is." He spotted a wash cloth hanging on a towel rail so he plucked it off and dumped it unceremoniously into the basin.

Tony turned on the tap and watched as the stream of water quickly soaked the blue cloth. He looked up and found himself staring at a closed cupboard, which, he assumed, contained her bathroom essentials.

"I wonder what our Mossad Officer keeps in her cupboard," Tony wondered, but had enough common sense, and experience, not to open the cupboard. Women usually did not like men prying into the make-up cupboard or whatever it was.

Once the cloth was sufficiently full of water, Tony turned off the tap, squeezed the excess water out and headed out of the bathroom, with the wet cloth in hand. He ambled his way back to Ziva's bedroom, and still found her curled up in a ball.

"Here we are, Zee-vah," he announced cheerful as Ziva shifted on the bed. "This will make you feel a lot better."

Tony sat down on the edge of the bed and studied Ziva closely. There were beads of perspiration on her forehead, her hair was matted, and her cheeks were flushed. "Oh, Ziva," Tony sighed softly as he reached out to place the cloth on her head.

Unfortunately, since Ziva was lying on her side, the cloth slipped off her forehead and tumbled onto the bed. Tony sighed in annoyance.

"Okay, sweetcheeks, you're gonna hafta move," he told Ziva's still form. He hesitated for a moment, before gently pushing on Ziva's shoulders, forcing her on to her back. Ziva stirred and moved a little, but did not protest.

"Good, Ziva," Tony praised and placed the cloth back on her forehead. This time it did not fall off. "Excellent," Tony said happily, rubbing his hands together. "Go Doctor Tony."

Tony decided that since Ziva looked like she'd be asleep for a while, he would vacate the room and find something to do as he waited for the fever to pass. He would most probably call Gibbs with and update and ask Ducky for some advice. And most likely talk to Abby, who would be hyper with worry, even over a little fever.

Before Tony got off the bed, he shot Ziva a concerned look, and gently brushed a piece of stray hair behind her ear. As he stood, he squeezed her hands lightly and said, "Get well soon, Ziva …"

That night, Tony sat on Ziva's couch, watching a movie, Speed, he had found it on a shelf in Ziva's living room, when a noise from Ziva's bed room startled him.

"Ziva?" he called out, knowing that he most likely wouldn't get a reply. He sighed. "Just when we were getting to the good part …" Tony stood and headed in the direction of Ziva's bedroom, leaving the bus-jumping-over-the-bridge running on the screen.

"Oh, Zee-vah," he announced cheerfully as he came to a halt in the doorway of the bedroom. "Ziva?"

Ziva had managed to twist the blanket around herself, even though she was lying on top of them, and was murmuring to herself and fighting against the blankets.

"Oh …" Tony eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. It felt like he was rooted on the spot, he just stared blankly at Ziva. This was definitely not covered in the NCIS training manual.

"Ah, Ziva?" he tried weakly, nervously making his way over the bed. "Err … are you okay?" He cursed himself for the stupidity of that question.

Ziva mumbled and jerked against the blankets, narrowly missing hitting her head on the bed head. Tony's eyes widened even more as he rushed over to the side of the bed.

"Ziva?" he questioned softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. She jerked away violently and lashed put with her foot. Tony gasped and doubled over in pain as the foot connected with a certain sensitive part.

"Geez, Ziva," Tony muttered through pain, "even in a total spaz-out, you still hurt! Even when a guy just wants to help." As he concentrated on getting his pain under control, he shot Ziva a concerned glance.

"I'm sure Alice isn't that frightening," he muttered conversationally as the pain subdued a little and Ziva continued to thrash around. "But you certainly are."

"Okay, Ziva," he said soothingly as he placed his hand back on her shoulder, and waited for the expected lashing out. It did not come and Tony was surprised when he felt Ziva relax under his touch.

He blinked twice. "Oo-kay …" he said weakly as Ziva relaxed under his touch, before letting out a breath he hadn't even realised he had been holding. "Unexpected, but okay …" He went to remove his hand, but Ziva whimpered and her hand closed around his forearm.

"Um, Ziva?" he uttered weakly as Ziva tightened her grip on him. "Err … let go?" he finished lamely. Ziva jerked to the side, but didn't relinquish the on Tony arm, thus pulling him on the bed in an unceremoniously heap. He landed millimetres away from her back and stared at the back of her shirt in shock.

"Trying to get me into bed, sweetcheeks," he said cheekily, pulling himself up, but finding it difficult with Ziva gripping on to his arm. "You could let me know what you're planning next time, you know. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon …" But Ziva did not let go.

Tony sighed frustratingly. "What am I going to do with you?" he muttered.

Ziva stirred next to him and muttered, "Croquet, queen … h-hearts, I'm late …" She murmured something else which Tony couldn't comprehend and shifted closer to Tony's body.

Tony had to fight the urge to jump away hastily, knowing that he could quite possibly dislocate his shoulder due to Ziva's death-like grip on his arm. He sighed as Ziva nestled up against him.

"So now you want to get all hot and heavy," he joked weakly. "Okay, I guess I'm not going anywhere soon … We are adults, aren't we? I'm sure we could share a bed …"

"Brilliant idea," Tony muttered to himself. "Get into the bed with the assassin … great idea …" He frowned and wrinkled his nose. "Well, it's not like you haven't done it before …"

"Yeah, while you were undercover," Tony injected swiftly. "And Ziva was a bit more lucid there." He groaned in annoyance over his current situation. "Well, apart from that night!" He remembered back to the moment when she had shoved her SIG into his cheek, half awake.

Ziva whimpered again and instinctively Tony hand went to stroke her hair soothingly. "Shhh, it's okay, Ziva. I am here," he finished with a smile. "Doctor Tony will make it all better …" he said suggestively.

As if Ziva had sensed what he had said, a foot lashed out, but Tony saw it coming and managed to manoeuvre himself so that all she hit was his knee. His hand dropped away from her head to his knee and he rubbed it. "That was definitely my knee that time, sweetcheeks." He smirked, but then it faded.

Sighing, he said, "I guess I can stay here, if I have to. But I won't sleep. I don't want to be murdered when Ziva wakes up and finds me in the same bed as her …"

Tony moved himself so that he was lying on his side. As if by instinct, Ziva moved neatly into the curve of his body … almost like they were a couple. Tony looked at Ziva with apprehension, before hesitantly putting his arm around her waist, simply because there was no other comfortable position. When the backlash didn't come from Ziva, Tony unintentionally sighed with contentment and closed his eyes.

"Okay, I lied," he murmured as he drifted off to sleep. "Maybe, I'll just close my eyes for a moment."

As he drifted into a deep sleep, the moonlight shone through the curtains and illuminated the two sleeping bodies. To any outsider, they looked like a couple.

The next morning, Ziva opened her eyes and groaned. She felt awful, like she'd just been in a major fight … or gotten stupendously drunk. She rolled over to face her alarm clock to see what time it was, and as she did, her foot hit something solid.

Immediately alert, she reached for the firearm she kept under her bedside table, sat up abruptly and whirled around to press the gun against the cheek of the sleeping body who's back was turned to her. The body groaned and Ziva's eyes widened as she realised who it was.

"Tony!" she exclaimed, clambering out of the bed in record time. "No, no, no," she muttered. "I did not get that drunk … did I?"

Tony moaned and turned over in the bed. Ziva let out a sigh of relief as she noticed that he was fully dressed, as was she. So they hadn't slept together … Then why was Tony in her bed? Suddenly, feverish flashes of White Rabbits, tea parties and Mad Hatters assaulted her mind.

"Wha …" she said to herself. What was going on? Why was she dreaming of Alice in Wonderland, a particular childhood favourite? Then she remembered how she had felt the day before, hot, bothered and sick.

"Oh," Ziva realised as it dawned her. "I must have had a feverish hallucination, yes?" Tony response was to groan and shift in the bed.

"To-ny," Ziva said brightly in a sing-song voice. She was feeling a lot better, but rudely waking Tony up would make her feel even better. "Wakey-wakey, my little hairy butt."

When Tony didn't reply, Ziva got back on the bed and clambered over to where Tony was lying. "To-ny," she said again, in the same tone of voice. "To …" She trailed off as she noticed drops of perspiration on his forehead.

Instantly, her hand shot out and rested on his forehead. Ziva sighed. He was definitely running a fever, he was burning up. "I guessed I passed the torch, yes," she commented sympathetically.

Tony moaned and opened his eyes weakly. "Ziva?" he questioned hoarsely. "You're okay?" His concerned tone of voice, even though he was sick himself, tugged at her heartstring.

"I am fine, Tony," Ziva replied with conviction.

"G-good," he murmured as his eyes slipped shut. "Cos I don't feel so good …"

Ziva smirked, not unkindly, and replied, "I guess I will have to take care of you now, my little hairy butt."